


Skywalker

by dogmatix, norcumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, GFY, Gore, M/M, Memory Alteration, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Wingfic, ace Cody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freedom. Endings. Beginnings. They are what we make of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skywalker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenothar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenothar/gifts).



> There is content that depending on perspective, counts as child abuse. Please be aware that some of the content here is potentially volatile, and note the tags for triggers.
> 
> This is from the Christmas prompts, wherein Elenothar wanted wingfic. "What's an Angel" was the main result. 
> 
> This is what happens when there's a vivid mental scene, and the wrong character with wings.

“General?”

Obi-Wan bit back a sigh, turning with as pleasant a look on his face as he could maintain after thirty plus hours of combat, a fighting retreat, and what was turning into an ugly rout.

“What is it, Rex?”

The clone had an exhausted, exasperated look behind his eyes that some heroic efforts were keeping mostly off his face. “General Skywalker took a blaster shot – ”

“The back, lower down, I saw. Didn’t seem to hamper him – are the med droids saying otherwise?”

A frustrated expression crossed Rex’s face, and he grimaced. “He’s hiding in his quarters, refusing treatment. _Again_.”

“Again? Force, Rex, this is a – ” He stopped himself, pinching the brow of his nose and trying not to snarl. “How long has this been going on?”

“Off and on. He’s usually better about it when you’re around.”

Obi-Wan bit back a tiny grin. “Appealing to a higher authority, hey?”

Rex’s expression was almost biting. “This is _way_ above my pay grade, sir.”

He snorted and held out a hand, taking the several heavy duty bacta packs Rex held. He left without a word, stalking down the hallway to Anakin’s quarters.

Not only was it locked, but pounding on the door and tapping incessantly on the door chime did nothing.

Fabulous. Since he had no idea if Anakin had disabled the chime inside, or fallen so far asleep that he could ignore _any_ outside stimulus, Obi-Wan sighed and keyed his private code into the door.

It buzzed a rejection tone.

Obi-Wan stared. He was the Jedi of highest rank on board, he was Anakin’s former master, and for that matter, Anakin had said countless times that his presence was always welcome. This made absolutely no sense.

He dithered for a moment, then a groan from within Anakin’s quarters made up most of his mind. While he’d heard the same peal of agony in the middle of battle, he’s heard its twin countless mornings before his student had shambled his way over to a mug of tea. There _were_ a multitude of reasons why he’d hear that.

However, he reached into the Force, and the cabin was roiling with distressed emotions.

That was _not_ the sound of a man just arisen and in desperate need of tea.

Well. No matter what his student had done to convince the door lock that Obi-Wan was not allowed entry, this _was_ a GAR cruiser. With only a bit of misgiving, he punched in a Council override. He was grimly aware that he’d just done the equivalent of smashing through what he presumed to be elegant mechanical adaptations with the equivalent of a tank, but he was not in the mood to care. Apologies could always be made. Some injuries could not be healed.

He marched in, more than a little concerned that the lights were dimmed only a little. Sleep was unlikely, then. He turned the corner, facing Anakin’s bunk, and he froze so quickly he almost fell onto his face.

Anakin was facedown on his bunk, stripped to the waist. There were… _things_ on Anakin’s back – Force! There were two fleshy things _protruding_ from the man’s shoulder-blades, slick muscle barely covering bone and the whole mess was _writhing_ about like some tentacled beast, skinned but still alive.

“What the – ?!”

Anakin’s head jerked up, distraught expression a mixture of pain, terror, and anger. “Never mind, get out!” he snapped, trying to glare but managing only a grimace.

Obi-Wan forced himself to be calm, shutting the door instead. “What’s going on?” His voice was level, though he didn’t dare look away from the things that…that had to be _alive_ , but attached to his padawan. He had no idea what they were, what they _could_ be, and since Anakin was aware and at least semi-lucid, Obi-Wan needed answers.

The tentacle things bulged, muscles bunching and twisting. Anakin buried his face in the pillow again. “Hnngn. Ob – Obi-Wan, _please_ , get out!” Shame was curling around the fear spasming in the air through the Force. Damned if he was leaving his student, his _friend_ alone to – with? – this.

He moved closer to the bunk. “Rex…said you were refusing treatment. I think he was trying to shove some bacta packs under your door. Or through it, given his mood.” Closer, he could see signs of the suspected blaster burn. It was on the lower back, below the new…extremities and mostly healed, which was a surprise. Last he knew, Anakin had absolutely no patience for Force healing.

How much _was_ Anakin hiding from him?

The younger man still hadn’t pulled his face out of the pillow, but the tenseness to his muscles was obviously in some part due to Obi-Wan’s closer presence. “Bacta just encourages them,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Just – just give me an hour, and pretend this never happened.”

Obi-Wan eyed the things, which were most definitively growing. “I rather doubt I’ll be able to do that.”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” his former padawan growled, and that at least was a familiar tone.

He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Anakin, I know your definition of ‘fine’ tends to differ from the rest of the galaxy’s, but now is not the time to indulge in – ”

“ _Please_.” Anakin had finally looked up, twisting to catch Obi-Wan’s arm. The pleading, almost desperate look on the man’s face was terrifying.

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Obi-Wan slowly sat down on the side of the bunk, giving the extremities plenty of room. “Anakin, what _is_ this?”

He let go of Obi-Wan’s arm and looked away, more shame and fear rippling through the air around him. “A – a little bit of hell.” His voice was bitter, cold and harsh. “Started – hah. Started when…” Anakin made a vague gesture to his right arm, glove absent to leave the cybernetics bare. “When Dooku cut off my arm.” He glared over his shoulder at the _things_. “That never came back, and now…I can’t get rid of these.” He shot Obi-Wan a grin as wry and bitter as his words had been. “Nothing happened with the damn arm, but these _things_ keep coming back.”

_Anakin Skywalker, what the blazing HELLS have you been doing?_ Obi-Wan kept the screams inside his head, instead centering himself by grasping for facts, solid knowledge. It didn’t help a damn bit that something was increasingly nagging at him, the Force poking at the intuitive part of his mind while watching the things writhe on Anakin’s back as his padawan spoke of - horrific things. “I…thought you tested as a full human.” It was, after all, standard procedure, part of basic medical examinations when someone started life at the Temple.

Anakin’s look turned bitter, lost, haunted. “I did. I _am_. Full, not near, shouldn’t have damn _things_ growing - argh!” He ducked his head into the pillow again, whole body shaking with the effort to contain what looked to be something horribly painful.

Memory smacked Obi-Wan right in the face, following the tortured curve of Anakin’s spine. He couldn’t _breathe_.

Obi-Wan knew from the first after the Naboo nightmare that taking on an over-aged padawan was going to be a whole bundle of problems. It was a challenge he’d always tried to meet with compassion and gentle care, but the boy’s status as an ex-slave was its own huge mess. Obi-Wan tried to let whatever unsavory events happened in the boy’s past remain there, not asking questions but being as supportive as he could.

He had seen that same arc to Anakin’s back on occasion, especially when the boy was going though the more physical aspects of training. There had always been two long, thick scars along Anakin’s back, parallel and the length of an adult human’s large hand. They would stand out in those moments, old scars brutal and a dull white against the boy’s tan. Obi-Wan had never asked, never wanted his student to have to relive whatever horror had done that to him, just to satisfy Obi-Wan’s curiosity.

Those scars lined up perfectly with the new extremities.

The things weren’t growing, they were growing _back_. A slave who grew spare limbs, especially if they, and their species weren’t supposed to – 

“ _Force_.” He shook his head, concern screaming though any remaining Jedi serenity he might hope to have. “What the hell were you planning on doing in the next hour?” he snarled.

Anakin looked up, the movement slow and lost. “Deal with them.” He looked so damn tired. “Same way I keep doing. And they keep. Coming. _Back._ ”

It was not lost upon him the way Anakin’s lightsaber was positioned carefully, almost ritualistically in front the man. He shook his head again, desperate and trying to hide in denial. “I – I can understand – No, I can _grasp_ that you’d – How did I miss this?”

It was answer enough; the tiny flicker of a grin, humorless and wry and utterly _Anakin_. “War. You’ve been kept kinda busy. Council seat didn’t hurt either.”

“You’re waiting for those things to get long enough so you can – No, I’d say that hurt matters! What can I do? Maybe there’s something hidden in your genetic profile? Would your mother know of – ” His desperate ramble stopped as Anakin’s face crumpled and the younger man looked away.

“Don’t know. Doesn’t matter.” Obi-Wan blinked, trying to understand. He could _see_ Anakin pushing himself to keep talking. “She’s dead.”

It was apparently one of those days, where the body blows just kept coming. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to convince himself that matters couldn’t get much worse. Experience often said otherwise, but he had to either keep hoping or run screaming through the cruiser. “Gods. I’m so sorry. How – do you know when – ”

“Right before Geonosis.” His student’s voice was soft, thrumming with pain and guilt. “Remember those dreams I had?”

He didn’t stagger, but in the Force his emotions clanged about and almost collapsed under despair. Yes, he _had_ been too hasty to hope things couldn’t get worse. Gods, and he had told Anakin those dreams were nothing – “Oh, _Force_. Anakin…”

He was genuinely surprised he could feel there was no blame from the man. Anakin just shook his head, still looking away. He grimaced as something rippled through the new limbs again. “I’ve never ignored another one of those,” he declared, soft but almost desperately determined. “I _won’t_ ever ignore another one. You didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

There was something personal going on that he knew he didn’t understand. There was plenty of self-condemnation brewing in the Force. Puzzle pieces he’d never quite had, never been able to fit together finally slotted into place. The increasing pile of horrors left him gaping. “That’s why you were on Tatooine. You never told me because she…”

“She died in my arms. I was too late. Then we were fighting a war, and…there’s been too many other things going on. It wasn’t…important.” Anakin sounded so lost. There was no understatement, nothing other than acceptance of facts, reality at its most brutal.

Obi-Wan dared to put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. There was only a tiny flinch, more a reaction than wanting the older Jedi away “I wish I’d seen this, understood,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Of course it’s important. I’m so sorry.” Anakin shook his head, reaching up to put a hand over Obi-Wan’s. They sat for a moment, still and calm within the Force together.

Obi-Wan would have had to be blind or stupid to miss how the new limbs rippled still, but nothing more than tiny tremors moved through Anakin’s body. “Does this… _help_?”

Anakin blinked, then gave a little shake of his head to toss off memory. Then he blinked again, twisting a little to look at Obi-Wan. The things growing out of the man’s back were still at it, almost as long as his arms would be if outstretched, and still growing. “Y – yes.” He sounded stunned and tentative, uncertainty rippling through the Force. “It hasn’t hurt so much.”

“Well.” Obi-Wan tried to make his voice casual, keeping his movements as loose and natural as possible as he leaned a little closer to keep in contact with Anakin. “Good to know. How far along have these things ever gotten?”

“…Not much more than this.”

“Hm. Well. Let’s see what happens if I just stay here, and we let them do whatever it is they’re going to do, and you leave the lightsaber out of things for once?” Anakin gave him a look, and Obi-Wan softened his tone. “You can’t fight everything head on, Padawan.” _You should not be removing limbs with a lightsaber,_ especially _not repeatedly, even if they_ don’t _belong there!_ “Sometimes other weapons are called for. Let me help you with this battle.”

After a long, nerve-wracking moment, Anakin nodded. He was a bit hesitant, but relief was singing through the Force. They just sat for awhile, Obi-Wan trying to ignore the things growing next to him, Anakin trying to find things to talk about. The damn war kept them so absurdly busy, kept them from talking much about anything other than logistics or tactics.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure when Anakin’s voice started to fade – not his fault; it was all Obi-Wan. Too long, pushing himself too hard, not nearly enough rest. Anakin’s voice went from playfully gushing about some starfighter recently pushed into production to a distant, soothing murmur.

He didn’t _mean_ to fall asleep. He just found himself drooping more and more, Anakin’s voice in the background, until he could feel the younger man pull him close. Too many times over the years, one of them had fallen over, and the other moved in protectively. He gave in to sleep.

When he woke up, it was next to a quietly snoring Anakin. That wasn’t too unusual; he’d lost track of how many times over the years they’d had to share quarters or beds. The blanket covering him was new, not something he recognized at first. It was heavy, warm, soft with something tickling along his face. He sat up slowly, the blanket _twitching_ before pulling closer to Anakin.

He gaped. Not a blanket. A _wing_. It was longer than he was, covered with dark cream feathers speckled with a black undercolor. Obi-Wan couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, running cautious fingers along the feathers. They were warm, the limb twitching again at his touch.

“…A…Anakin?”

“Mrmph?”

There were two wings, and stretched out as Anakin was, it looked like the longest tips went down to the ankles. The naked muscles and bones had become actual limbs, looking correctly sized for flight, though Obi-Wan wasn’t sure the man was _light_ enough for that to work correctly.

“Anakin!”

“ _What_?” he grumped, opening his eyes and trying to focus on Obi-Wan.

There was a wing in the way.

Anakin blinked a few times, frowning at the feathers in front of him before reaching out and trying to shove them out of his view.

Obi-Wan could only imagine what the sensation was, since Anakin yelped, bolting upright and gaping wide-eyed as the wings fluffed out, feathers bristling in every direction. “What! The! Fuck!” He looked over at Obi-Wan, hair sleep-mussed to match the messy feathers. “Please tell me I’m dreaming!”

“I don’t believe you are.” Obi-Wan reached out cautiously tried to smooth some of the feathers down. Anakin’s wings trembled, but he didn’t flinch away. “Yes, you’re awake, yes, you have wings, and please, do try to calm down – you’re getting feathers everywhere.” He belatedly looked down, realizing that feathers were drifting off his sleeves. He was absolutely covered in soft, downy feathers of all sizes, all in the black-edged cream. “You’ve been shedding.”

“That is _not_ something I ever thought I’d hear.”

“I hope it doesn’t continue.”

“Obi-Wan? Not helping.”

* * *

Obi-Wan stepped out of Anakin’s quarters, letting the door slide shut with a sigh mirroring his own. He took a moment to scrub his face, gratified that the only trooper nearby was moving away with purpose, and was unlikely to return or notice.

Wings. Anakin had _wings_.

He was not nearly drunk or rested enough for this. Even the little nap – several hours, which was better than he’d managed for some time lately – was only enough to get him moving. In some ways, Obi-Wan was grateful for that, since he was fairly certain that if he had more energy, he’d be a lot more disturbed about his former padawan’s new limbs.

He paused, then straightened his shoulders.

More vocal about his disturbance, at least.

_Get a grip, man,_ he growled to himself, trying to walk to his quarters as if everything were perfectly normal. He needed to get out of battle-grimed clothes – particularly with some of the small remaining feathers that he kept finding – then see how matters stood with –

“Captain Rex.” He stopped and blinked as the clone turned a corner, halting in his path almost at attention. “What’s going on?”

“Well, Sir, you disappeared several hours ago, and no one’s seen you or General Skywalker since.”

_Oh. Fuck_. He had rather lost track of time. _Oh fuck! The council!_ “I’m sorry, I promised the Council –”

Rex held up a hand. “Cody took care of it, Sir. He made apologies for your absence and gave a report. You clearly needed to look in on General Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan winced. That many “Generals” and “Sirs” usually meant Rex was trying to keep his temper, falling back on strict protocol to keep a lid on matters. “I’m sorry. The situation became…unpredictable.”

Rex gave him a look, somewhere between skeptical and sarcastic, because of _course_ things were unpredictable. “Like normal, then?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face again. “Indeed.”

“What’s going on?” Rex’s voice had gone soft, insistent with concern.

“Anakin is…all right,” Obi-Wan hedged. “However, are we able to delay our return for a day or two?”

Rex gave him a faintly suspicious look, then nodded. “Possibly more than that. A Vulture droid cracked the hyperdrive, so we’re stuck with small, easy-to-trace jumps only. We still have Seps on our tail, so our choices are to keep moving, or take a stand.”

“…Fuck. We don’t have the resources to make a stand.”

“What do you need, General?”

“If we can hole up somewhere, I’d prefer a planet. Not too inhabited, reasonable gravity and atmosphere. Where are we now?”

Anakin’s commander shifted, a touch of awkward amusement in his eyes. “It’s only a slight detour to Naboo.” Obi-Wan winced. “Friendly planet, reasonable forces in system that could provide assistance, and plenty of uninhabited land. And…depending on General Skywalker’s condition, Senator Amidala is scheduled to be on planet within a few rotations.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached to the Force for strength. Few days had been quite so trying as this, but a close second had been the day when Rex had bluntly asked if he knew about Padmé.

He had not. It had been an…interesting talk.

“I’m not sure if that would be beneficial or harmful right now. Well. Are there any better options?”

“Not really.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I thought as much,” he said. “Would you pass the orders on? I desperately need to clean up.” Rex nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. Obi-Wan tried for a smile back, patting the man’s arm in return. He made it two steps before turning. “Oh, and Rex?”

“Sir?”

“How long did you have that trooper stationed to watch for me leaving?”

The Captain smirked. “After a half hour of no yelling, I put one man here, one mousedroid at all the nearest air vent exits. Can I tell them to stand down, or will the General be sneaking –”

His grin dimmed. “No, he’ll be fine. Thank you.” He turned, head aching with renewed responsibilities and requirements.

Rex’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Obi-Wan,” Rex said softly. “Is he all right? Are _you_ all right?”

He allowed himself to slump against the clone’s hand, and he shrugged a little. “I’m exhausted. Anakin…Things are odd with him, but I think he’s all right.”

“…is this something you’re calling odd, or most people would call odd?”

He couldn’t stop a small grin. “I’m calling it odd.”

Rex squeezed his shoulder, giving it a little shake. “I’ll make sure we have extra ammo when we land. Clean up, General.”

* * *

The doorchime was a welcome relief. Anakin blinked muzzily into his pillow, then bolted upright as Obi-Wan poked him mentally. He flailed a little, and the sensation of a new set of limbs thumping against the mattress made him squawk and fall to the floor.

Anakin glared up at the door panel and used the Force to smack his jury-rigged override button. The doors swished open and Obi-Wan walked in, somehow maintaining a smooth, unhurried looking pace while moving damn quick. “Are you all right?”

“Just…fell asleep again.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, grimacing a little at strange new aches and movements to his back. He accepted the hand up Obi-Wan offered. Once on his feet, the world seemed a little more reasonable, a little saner. His new – his new wings, Force help him, didn’t seem to throw off his balance any, which made no sense. His body was compensating just fine, as if the extra weight were normal.

Like his body expected it.

_I’m so sorry, Ani_ , a memory whispered. Anakin’s knees buckled. He caught himself, going down hard onto the edge of the mattress. He ended up crouched forward to keep his wings clear, but head in hands, memory spinning, all Anakin could do was shake.

Obi-Wan was there, next to him, arm around his shoulders and somehow keeping him upright. He closed his eyes and leaned into his teacher, desperate for that warmth and strength.

“I…dreamed,” he whispered, voice hoarse with too much emotion.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan’s voice was too casual, the tension singing in the laconic question. “About what?”

“My mother.” It hurt to breathe. It hurt to feel those wings rise and fall with each breath. His back ached, sharp echoes of pain radiating out into his shoulder blades. “She was crying. Then…then she was singing.” He’d forgotten that. It had been a soft little croon, almost tuneless and full of sorrow and regret. Anakin shook his head to Obi-Wan’s questioning look. “She’d do that sometimes. Not too often. I think – I didn’t understand it at the time, but I think she was using the Force.”

“Anakin, using the Force to do _what_?”

He slowly raised his flesh and blood hand, and without him quite understanding the _how_ of the maneuver, the nearest wing curved forward so that his knuckles brushed against feathers. “To hide these.” Memory niggled at him, something _hidden_ that wanted to slink out of dark corners of his mind. Anakin mumbled something to Obi-Wan – he wasn’t sure what, but since his Master kept quiet it must have been sufficient – then he shut his eyes and dropped into a light meditative trance.

Memory pounced.

* * *

“Mom?” He didn’t mean to be crying, but it hurt so very much. Ani wriggled on the bed, his whole back afire like he’d been outside without a shirt for _hours_. “Something’s wrong. What’s happening?”

Mom stood in the doorway, pale and scared. She stepped into the little dwelling Watto housed them in, and her hand shook as she shut the door. “Ani, when did this start?”

“A-about an hour ago.” He sniffled, then scrubbed his nose on his arm. He kept them crossed in front of him, burying his face behind them when he could, when the pain got bad, but now that Mom was home he needed to _know_.

It _hurt_. For all that, something felt…felt _right_ , the way the air sometimes felt clean and good right after it rained.

Nothing really made sense.

Mom sat down on the edge of the bed, but the whole time she never once looked from his back. “Oh Ani, I’m so sorry.”

He blinked. “What? Why?”

Mom looked old as she reached out and smoothed her hand over his hair. He let out a soft noise, because as soon as she touched him it was like a wash of cool air over him. It still hurt, but it was a little distant, like an old pain or a pulled muscle that was almost healed. Anything other than the spikes being driven into his back!

Mom noticed, of course, and her face crumpled a little more. “This is all my fault.”

“What? Mom, no, that’s not – ” He twisted around and up, then cried out as something shifted along his spine, something rough and solid that shouldn’t be there, a weight he hadn’t been quite aware of now settled on his shoulders. Mom caught him, gentle but firm in pinning his shoulders back down onto the mattress.

“No, no, stay there Ani, shh, it’ll be all right, I promise. Please, be still!”

It wasn’t as if he could do much else but cry. When he finally got that under control, Mom was seated next to him, an arm around his shoulders and holding him close to her.

She’d been crying too. He couldn’t see much, sprawled on his stomach like he was, but she looked so sad. “Mom?”

She swallowed, wiped her face, then looked him in the eyes. “Anakin? This is very important. You need to trust me.”

“‘Course I trust you, but what’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you. Maybe when you’re older, but right now…” She bit her lip and looked away. “Things are difficult enough as it is.”

Another shiver, more sensation than pain, worked through his body. That made up his mind. “Mom, I trust you, but I want to know.” Ani tried to make sure he sounded adult, not like a whiny little six year old.

He might be six, but he wasn’t whining. Mom could tell. She hesitated.

“Please?”

Mom slumped, running her hand over his hair again. She didn’t look him in the face, which was kinda worrying. “Will you work with me, Ani? If I explain, will you try to work with me to keep you safe?”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?”

“…do you remember those stories I told you? Jedi and Sith?”

“‘Course.” He loved those stories. Well, ok, he didn’t like the Sith, but Jedi – Jedi were wizard!

Mom took a deep breath. “Your grandfather – my father – was a Jedi.”

“No way!”

She got that tiny little smile that wasn’t, not really. “He never knew my mother was pregnant. I knew of him, but I never met him. I could use the Force, the same way you seem to.” Her hand kept stroking through his hair. “My third owner was a Sith, Ani.” Mom’s breath shook as she inhaled deeply. “He…The Force…”

Ani stayed quiet, wondering how big a mistake he’d made. He didn’t like making Mom feel bad, but…this seemed important.

When Mom spoke again, he could barely hear her. “When you were born, he took the Force from me, and gave it to you. I can barely feel it anymore.”

He frowned. “How do I give it back?”

She shook her head, the motion short and small. “You can’t. It’s all right.” The way she said that, it wasn’t all right, but she had accepted it.

He knew that tone. He hated it. Ani twisted a little and put his hand on her knee, and Mom brought her free hand around to hold it.

Finally she sighed. “We were on a planet. I could see the spaceport from our room.” The silence was a third presence in the room. “I just wanted us to fly away from there. It was awful.”

“…what happened?” Ani finally asked, when it seemed like she wouldn’t say any more.

The laugh was soft, bitter, and had no humor at all. “An earthquake. Cracked the building like an egg.” Mom laughed again. “We escaped because of the land, not the sky. I snuck us onto a transport leaving in the chaos, we got stopped at the next planet, and since we had no money, no paperwork, we were confiscated as slaves. Again. At least we were free of _him_.”

“Bad owner?”

“The worst.”

He nodded. “Okay. So what’s happening to me?”

Mom hesitated, then she slowly reached out. Her fingertips brushed against…against something that was on Ani’s back but not. He sighed in deep relief as something gentle and soothing spread through his body. “I still want to fly away,” she murmured. “He took the Force from me, but there’s always a part that wants to reach out, to return, and it _listens_ to me. I’m sorry. I wish _you_ could up and fly away from it all.”

“Fly?” He understood that much, at least. “You think I could fly?”

Her hand moved along his back-but-not, and he nestled further against her and into the mattress. “My mother’s people were called Walkers from the Sky because they brought trade goods between planets. They did good deeds and brought hope on shuttles and cruisers. Ani, you just need to learn to pilot, and you can fly then.”

“Huh. ‘d like that.” His head drooped down next to her leg. “But for real, I mean.”

“…Not right now. If you did that, you’d catch people’s attention.” He shuddered. Any attention from the Hutts had been bad. Mom didn’t need to explain that. “We need to hide now. That Sith could still find us.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. So Ani, will you help me? I – ” Mom’s voice broke. “I can make sure we hide.”

“Sure.” Her touch was still soothing, and he kept his face near her leg. “What d’ I gotta do?”

“Just…just wait there, all right?”

He made an agreeing noise as Mom stood up. There were noises, then she sat back down. Mom cupped his cheek, tilting his head to look at her.

“This will hurt, Ani,” she whispered, voice soft and low and full of pain. “It will hurt a lot. I’m so sorry. I wish – I wish I knew another way. I’m…going to do something. It’ll hurt. When it does, take the pain.” Mom waved a hand in front of his eyes, her voice low and soft and compelling. “Take the pain and hide these memories, far back in your mind unless you need them. _Hide_ them, Anakin.”

He nodded once, slowly, feeling _something_ stir and then settle weirdly in his mind. Mom ran a hand through his hair again, gently nudging his head back down onto his arms. “Remember.” He could feel her move, almost track the hand passing near his face. “ _Hide_ them.” Then Mom took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Ani.”

Then there was pain, then darkness.

* * *

Anakin bit a scream back behind his teeth. He snapped out of the trance, out of the memory as his wings flared wide before curling tight around him. Obi-Wan shouted something, reached out for him, but backed off quickly as Anakin sobbed _Not yet, not now!_ into their mental bond.

If anyone or anything touched his wings right then, he might well use the Force to send them right through the wall.

Or spread them across it.

He was on his knees, curled tight around himself with the wings pulled as close as possible, and juddering memories of pain rippled through his back. _She cut them off!_ his mind screamed, _how could she cut them off?!_ He knew very well how; it was the same logic he’d had when he’d made the same damned decision, but he’d been _six_ and she’d – 

She’d done everything she could to keep her boy alive, and as healthy as she could provide for. He tried very hard to hold on to that. Every moment she’d been alive, Mom had – 

Anakin froze, his eyes going wide and wild.

Every moment she had been alive.

“Nnnnnooo,” he murmured, head shaking spasmodically. Mom had been in horrible shape when he’d found her in the Tusken camp. Yet she hadn’t seemed near death. In terrible pain, yes, that was what all the dreams told him.

She was suffering. Not so near death that moving her should have ended her. “Now I am complete,” she’d said. He’d thought it odd at the time, but it had been lost in the horror as he’d felt the Force swell, and the currents of life around him had changed.

As his mother had declared she loved him, Anakin had felt something sweep into him, become a part of him, and his mother shoved the Force energy she still held into her son.

Shmi Skywalker had finally let go of the connection she’d had though the Force to Anakin, and as a grown Jedi, he now understood. She had cut herself off from the Force, the fabric of life and the universe, releasing it to join the energies stolen from her long ago. He’d dreamt of her _because_ of that connection between them.

She must have known.

Rather than inflict her pain on him any longer, she had taken the opportunity to give him one last, strange gift.

Mom had embraced death, and she’d given him back his wings.

Anakin was keening, rocking back and forth without knowing when he’d started. Obi-Wan crouched in front of him, hands outstretched but clenching in helpless little spasms as he obeyed Anakin’s plea to not touch. When Ani looked up, he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even form the words his mouth was unable to find in the first place.

Obi-Wan, bless him, understood anyways. He moved, slow but direct to wrap his arms around Anakin, cuddling close. He curled around the younger Jedi, hands smoothing down feathers as if to help Ani feel them, to know they were there.

When at long last he stopped shaking, he was snugged up against Obi-Wan, face burrowed against tear-soaked tunics. His master held him tight, their mental connection gently full with the sensation of wordless reassurances.

“She’d sing them into hiding,” Anakin finally managed to say. “I think that’s what it was. She – she was calling out to them, to stay hidden.” He shuddered. “She – she was the – that’s why –”

Obi-Wan didn’t say a thing. He held on tighter, and Anakin clung as tight as he could, wings mantling forward to curve around them both.

* * *

Cody was giving him the look again. Rex shifted a little, rotating the helmet underneath his arm a smidgen to see if this was the “I can out-Commander you” look.

Damn. Cody’s look and posture didn’t change. That meant it was the “you’re still fucking my General and I can’t believe no one _said_ anything to me” glare. He pulled it out from time to time, particularly when he thought Rex or Kenobi were getting a bit too reckless – or dangerously open about their relationship.

Or just when he wanted to be a little shit, but Rex could never prove that.

It was a bit of a relief when the Generals came down the corridor, cloaked and ready for what looked to be clandestine action. He blinked a little at General Skywalker, whose cloak was badly covering some kind of new armor or – what, booster pack? Whatever their side mission was, it was bound to be interesting.

The Generals snagged two BARC speeders on their way to the Twilight. It was only when the shuttle had pulled away from the Resolute, heading towards Naboo, that Obi-Wan came to find them. He paused in the doorway, looking like he was taking a moment to brace himself.

Never a good sign. Rex snuck a glance over at Cody and sighed inside. _Someone_ was not going to be cooperative to Rex taking action about his General having a rough time. Cody sometimes had even stronger notions about propriety than Rex did.

Or it was another example of him being a bastard. It was even odds.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Anakin and I will be…engaging in a few training exercises. Admiral Yularen said we seem to have lost the Seps following us?”

Cody stood a little straighter. “Three jumps ago. Either they figured out where we were going and they decided the odds were against them, or they calculated odds were better in some less likely direction.”

The Jedi nodded with a touch of visible relief. “Then what I need is for you two to discreetly patrol the area Anakin and I are working in, and keep out any curious civilians. I would also appreciate your discretion regarding our exercises.”

_Translation: something really fucking weird happened, we need some time to adjust, and keep out idiots who could get hurt in the process_. Rex nodded. “Is this discretion at the level of keeping our mouths shut, or we saw nothing strange at all?”

“How about we acknowledge reality and stop pretending everything is fine?”

General Kenobi winced and turned to face General Skywalker, who was still in the hallway, out of line of sight of the clones. “Anakin –”

“If we can’t trust them, then who can we trust?” General Skywalker stepped past Kenobi, and Rex blinked. The Jedi’s cloak had been pushed back, leaving two… _wings_ …free.

He shared a quick, dubious look with Cody. Neither of them had heard about anything like this. “Are you…all right, Sir?” Rex dared to ask. The General didn’t _look_ all right in the least. His face was haggard, pained, and tight with something akin to fear. Skywalker looked at him, and the tiny, wry grin was an attempt for something normal.

“Rex, I just grew a set of wings. I think it’s –” The Jedi rolled his eyes. “The will of the Force, or at least an expression of the Force. I have a whole new set of limbs I need to learn how to use, and fast.” The wings flared out a little, feathers ruffling along their length. “I can’t be hampered by these in a fight.”

Rex sincerely hoped it was his imagination that had the General muttering “And it’s not like it would be a long term solution anyways.” The implications of that were _bad_. He knew all too well the kind of insanity Skywalker was capable of.

Oh fuck. He did not like the picture that was emerging about _someone’s_ recent habits regarding the medics. He glared at his General, wondering just what the hell he would have to do _now_ to keep the idiot going.

Thankfully, Cody was there to cover for him. By the time Rex had worked through reasonable options, there was a neat little patrol pattern set up and they were ready to land. He made sure to take a few more blaster packs above and beyond the spares he’d promised Kenobi.

There was no way this would end well.

* * *

Anakin stepped away from the Twilight with a touch of caution, wings flexing automatically in the light breeze. The two speeders revved as Rex and Cody moved out. They’d make a quick circuit or two, then proceed on foot, or ditch one of the speeders to double up with the sidecar.

He deliberately spread his wings wide, walking forward and trying his best to dismiss the clones from his concern. They could take care of themselves, and they could certainly take care of their job.

He had to figure out how to use the damn wings.

Anakin was incredibly grateful that Obi-Wan was right behind him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “This shall be interesting training,” his former master declared quietly.

“Let’s hope not.”

The first dozen attempts were rather miserable failures. Anakin was just glad he managed to get off the ground after a few tries. As he shoved himself up from the grass after the latest one, trying to discretely spit out some foliage, Anakin had to wonder how useful the new limbs were going to be.

“Another happy landing,” Obi-Wan commented dryly, offering him a hand up.

“Oh, thanks. Your support is overwhelming.” He rolled his shoulders, letting the wings spread wide and flap lightly. Despite eating turf several times, he was starting to feel more at ease with this fucked up state of affairs. It was something about using the Force, pushing himself skyward and somehow using that to navigate air currents.

Another handful of attempts, and this time, his wings _caught_ on something, and strange instincts finally kicked in. Muscles in his back started flexing regularly, lifting him higher. Something…clicked in his head, and while it wasn’t easy, flying suddenly made sense.

Anakin started to laugh. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he felt _free_.

* * *

It took more effort than Obi-Wan expected to not flinch at his padawan’s joy. It was strange, how hard it was to feel that unbounded happiness, to _hear_ it ringing through the air. He had to wonder what he’d done wrong, how he had not managed to provide that, or at least the opportunities to experience it.

The sound and feel warmed something inside that he tried so hard to cultivate, with so little success. It was a good thing, that happiness of Anakin’s. He took a few steps forward to better see his former padawan, the man arcing through the sky with an increasing deftness.

Anakin was still careening around, joy singing through their mental bond, when a cluster of ships screamed overhead. In the sky, Anakin jerked as if he’d been shot, wings flailing as he twirled to stare at a small silver craft being pursued by vulture droids.

He lost too much height, tumbling down to a messy landing near Obi-Wan. “Padmé!” Anakin yelped, scrabbling to his feet. “That was Padmé on that ship! Is she supposed to be in-system?”

Obi-Wan was already reaching for his gauntlet com. “You can sense her from this range? I think she might be –”

“I’m going after her!” Anakin crouched down, drawing his lightsaber.

“No! Don’t be hasty, we can –”

“ _No_.” Anakin growled the word before turning to give him one anguished look. “Obi-Wan, she’s my _wife_.” He crouched down then leapt, using the Force to propel himself skyward before his wings snapped open and he raced after the shuttle.

“I _know_ that, you –! Wait, ‘ _wife?’_ Anakin, _NO_!” Obi-Wan growled, then activated his com. “Rex, Cody,” he snapped, “I need one of you with me, one of you scrambling Oddball’s squad. Vulture droids are after Senator Amidala’s shuttle.”

“Roger that,” Rex declared, crisp and professional. “We saw them and are on our way. Coming in hot, your left.”

A few seconds later, the roar of full throttle repulsors screamed into range. He turned to see Cody hunched over the handlebars of a BARC speeder, Rex in the sidecar and heavy gun at the ready. They came barreling towards him at reckless speeds, then Cody looked him in the eyes, nodded, and leapt off the bike. As the clone rolled in a graceless but safe landing, Obi-Wan jumped. He landed in a crouch on the bike’s seat, then dropped down and grabbed the handlebars. Rex gave him one quick nod, chambering the gun’s next ammo cartridge to signal his readiness.

Obi-Wan gunned the engines to a shriller scream, weaving through Naboo’s forest at speeds only the Force made even faintly safe. His senses trilled with danger to so much of what he held dear. There were sounds of something mechanical exploding above, but all he could feel from Anakin was determined, directed fury, a protective concern laced through battle readiness.

“Idiot padawan!” Obi-Wan snarled as the speeder cleared the trees. As they broke out into a rolling meadow, a bunch of herd beasts stampeded away from them. Above, the shuttle darted back and forth, Vulture droids swopping about in an attempt to shoot it out of the air.

Slower yet more agile by far was the relatively small figure of Anakin, lightsaber ready and shearing through the Separatist forces whenever he managed to catch one.

“Need to find something more accurate one of these days, General!” Rex called back, glaring skywards.

He knew it was a ploy to redirect his mind from useleass worry, but Obi-Wan gave in. He took a few moments to inform Rex of several impossible facts about the clone’s mother in a number of esoteric tongues.

It did ease his mind some, the fierce laughter quieting some of the sense of danger. They chased the aerial battle, Rex taking down droids where he could. That got a little more complicated when the Vultures noticed the speeder and tried to take it out as well. They had to dodge more and shoot less. Obi-Wan had just enough attention to spare to see that the small shuttle was damaged to the point of smoking and shedding parts, with Anakin perched atop it and prying into the vessel with his lightsaber.

The squad of starfighters swooping in was probably what kept matters from being yet another rout. Obi-Wan brought the speeder to a halt, slumping a little over the handlebars as Republic ships either blew up or chased off the droids. Through the bond, Anakin was all clattering nerves and the strange combination of swaggeringly elated and horribly insecure that only Padmé could create.

Anakin swooped down near them, Padmé in his arms – her blaster at ready and her expression somewhere between bemused and grimly intent. Watching his student land like some mythical hero of legend – albeit with a somewhat significant stumble – Obi-Wan had to wonder just what the hell Anakin had planned.

* * *

Padmé gave Anakin’s arm a quick squeeze as he set her down. Her smile was a touch cautious, mirroring the speculative look in her eyes as her hand slipped from his arm to brush lightly against the nearest wing. He couldn’t stop his feathers from fluffing out, and he was _certain_ she noticed.

He didn’t look at her. With luck, it would be something else she thought was cute, and not ridiculous like _he_ thought it was. In the meantime, he had an idiot master to deal with.

Obi-Wan was stepping off a speeder with the haggard, put-upon look like he hadn’t just been jigging around with blaster shots coming within centimeters of exploding the machine. Anakin had long ago decided that it was some strange Force technique that let his master look like he was perfectly sane, totally not likely to pull asinine, boneheaded maneuvers, and that it was some fluke of nature that he had such a reckless padawan.

As if he hadn’t learned the vast majority of it from Obi-Wan in the first place.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, hugging Obi-Wan with both arms and wings. It surprised him a little, that the instincts were there so strongly, but it made so much sense. It had always been there as well; the desire, the _need_ to reach out and envelop, to hold on to what was _his –_

This was perhaps not the healthiest change in his life.

“Seriously, Master, stop getting shot at.”

“It’s getting _hit_ that’s the problem, not being shot _at_. I wish to point out that they kept missing.”

“I don’t care; it’s a really bad habit.”

“He’s right,” Rex grumbled.

Anakin pulled back from his master and looked back and forth between Obi-Wan and Rex. There was a strange resonance between them, much like – 

He blinked and looked over at Padmé. She raised a brow, giving him a significant look before glancing over at the other two.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Anakin breathed. The sensation was incredibly similar to the bond he had with Padmé. It wasn’t an actual connection in and created by the Force, but there was undoubtedly _something_ there.

Obi-Wan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Rex, you’re broadcasting.”

Anakin’s commanding clone blinked, giving Obi-Wan a startled look before basic mental shields slammed into place. “Shit. Sorry, Sir.”

Anakin gaped some more. Those were the simple, straightforward mental shields even the non-sensitives working in the Temple had learned, since younglings and the wounded could not always have the best blocks between them and the minds of others.

Some beings, like Padmé, had innate protection. Others had minor Force-sensitivity, and instinctively shielded. Some beings just had strong wills that manifested as a difficulty to read or influence their minds.

It had never occurred to Anakin that his commander might have been _taught_ to shield, rather than just being a stubborn bastard who had started to will his mental privacy into being.

He put his hand to his forehead, internally wincing when he realized yet again he was mimicking Obi-Wan. “Rex?”

“Sir?” The clone sounded resigned.

“Have you and my master been…” He hesitated, not sure what words to use.

“Violating the Jedi code?” Obi-Wan asked dryly. “It might not be quite as extreme as having a wife, but…” He shrugged.

Rex’s head whipped around and he gaped at Padmé. “When did you have time to get _married_?”

Anakin was glad he wasn’t the only one staring. “You mean you _knew_?” Padmé asked.

Obi-Wan snorted and glared away, arms crossed in a sulky posture. “I’ve gotten the impression that we Jedi don’t notice, but the troopers are…well…”

“Taking regular bets. Mostly on which of you does more property damage in a fight.” Rex looked over the field, and shrugged. “I’ll have to ask Cody the results later.”

Anakin and Padmé exchanged another look, then his wife surprised him yet again. “Which of us is ahead?” Even as he sputtered, trying to not laugh or protest too much, Rex grinned.

“Sheer numbers? General Skywalker. Proportionally to time in the field? The Senator’s got more clean, confirmed kills.”

Anakin didn’t know how preening would go over in this new, mad world he seemed to find himself in, so he was incredibly gratified that Cody came roaring up on the other speeder. With the clone occupying Obi-Wan and Rex’s attention, he stepped back, wings flexing with a touch of anxiety. There was no way their troops had missed him prying open Padmé’s shuttle. He couldn’t even imagine the amount of chatter that had to have been going across the com system.

His wife’s hand on his arm caught his attention. She stepped up next to him, and it was still startling how readily he curled a wing around her. It felt good; her warmth nestling close to the length of feathers. “Is this…permanent?” she asked in an undertone.

Anakin fought down the immediate flash of frustration and fearful anger. Mom had done what she’d thought best. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that, but such was the life of a slave.

He had so much meditation in his future, though.

“I think so. This is…a new development.”

Padmé glanced up at him, face free of the worry that was obvious in her eyes. “How new?”

“…a few rotations?”

“Ani!” she hissed. “As much as I appreciate you showing up and saving me, ‘trust me I know what I’m doing’ is not a useful explanation for growing _wings_!”

“Well I don’t really have a much better explanation!” He looked away, not quite able to bear the look he was getting. “I – It’s the Force.” Gods, he felt stupid saying that, like he was whining that it was a perfectly fine, ordinary situation. “It’s – I guess you could call it a gift from Mom.”

He could feel her astonishment ringing through their bond. “…how?”

“Use of the Force is a lot about will. Desire. And in her case…the need to escape.”

She made a soft noise of understanding. “Did she mean for this to happen?”

“ _No_.” Anakin winced again, just a little, at the sharp tone he hadn’t meant to have. Apparently that little trait ran in the family.

Padmé’s hand on his chest was warm, reassuring. In the Force, the jangle of her emotions calmed to concern. “How bad is it, Ani?”

He wilted a little. “Strange. But…not horrible.” _Now that I’m not trying to get rid of them…_ He winced and shut that thought away. That was a conversation they would have to have, but…not yet. Maybe not for a long time.

There was an awful lot of meditation in his future first.

Cody turned away from where Obi-Wan and Rex were having a quiet conversation, and it couldn’t be Anakin’s imagination that the Commander was giving them a long, evaluating look. He’d seen it often enough before, but to realize it was about him, and Padmé, and possibly property damage…

He had no idea if that was good, bad, or just really, really weird.

He went still as Padmé’s hand ran through the feathers of the wing around her, which was a fascinating sensation. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to squeak, moan, or make some hideously embarrassing noise somewhere in between.

Wings…might not be the worst addition to his world.

Then he realized she’d said something at the same time. “What?”

He could see from the amusement in her expression that she was well aware he hadn’t been paying attention. “Do you think this is genetic?”

“I have no idea.” He shrugged, amused that his wings flared out even as his shoulders rose and fell. “Why?”

Padmé glanced away, a slight grin warring with her habit of biting her lip. “I was wondering if the child might have them.”

“The – What child?” She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. That – there was no way – “But we used birth control!” Anakin yelped, eyes wide and wings flaring out to their full length. He was dimly aware that this had caught the attention of the others, including Cody who please Force was not actually using his com at the time. “We _both_ used birth control!”

Padmé made a face, very much not looking over at the others. “I know that!” she hissed. “But one way or another I’m still pregnant!”

He was blinking. A lot. Obi-Wan was approaching slowly, as if wary that Padmé might turn on him in an explosion of violence. “It seems congratulations are in order?”

Anakin sputtered, but Padmé smiled wanly at the older Jedi. “Thank you.” Her tone was rather more wry than he would expect. “I’m afraid I don’t really have details. I was hoping to come home for a quiet visit with some specialists, but…” She made a face and gestured to the remains of the droids and the landing starfighters.

“I suspect that might have been our fault.” Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s quite likely they followed us here.”

Cody gave a haughty snort. “Known fact, General. The Resilient just finished cleaning up the rest of the bastards with the assistance of local forces. We were lucky to get Oddball’s squad diverted here.”

Padmé gave him a gracious smile. “I would appreciate it if you’d pass on my thanks to them.”

“Of course, Senator. And congratulations.”

Anakin bit back a groan at the amused light in Cody’s eyes. He knew far too well how every single clone he’d ever run across had an absurd soft spot for younglings. Padmé had either just earned their child a perpetual, literal army of assistants, or the most terrifying group of bodyguards and potential caretakers ever.

Their child. Holy _Force_. Anakin shook his head, trying to convince himself that grabbing Padmé and launching them into the sky was not the best thing to do. Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder grounded him a little. He leaned into the touch a little desperately. “How much of all this is a horrible mistake?” he asked, tone somber and quiet.

“You’ll do fine, Padawan.”

“I doubt the Council will see it that way.” Hells, not just the Council, the _Naboo_ would be throwing a collective fit! Padmé might well be the most beloved political figure in her planet’s recent history, but that could have very little impact on a culture that firmly believed that marriage meant leaving a career to raise a family.

“As a member of the Council, I’d like to remind you that you _always_ have an ally there. You’ll be fine.” Anakin gave Obi-Wan a look, shaking his head in quiet denial.

“I wish I had your optimism. I just can’t see them accepting this. I can’t see the _Naboo_ accepting this, not wholesale. If that happens, then –”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft. “Let’s all try to not make the mistakes of our parents, literal or no.” He glanced over at Rex, and Anakin was surprised to see his Master’s expression softening into something he had never thought to see on the man’s face. “The old ways have had their time and place, but…” Obi-Wan looked back at him, and the soppy smile changed into something just as warm, if not quite as emotionally charged. “War has changed us all. It’s changed so much of the galaxy. What’s one more battle, especially for such a good cause?”

He gradually smiled, feeling awkward and uncertain as he ever had as a padawan. “You make it sound simple.”

“The best battle plans usually are.”

Gods, no one could do self-parodying smug like Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin laughed, feeling at least some of the tension drain out of him. “Well, so long as you’re willing to help.”

“But of course.”

Padmé laughed, soft and teasing as she got so few opportunities to indulge in. “Then we’re all set.” Her smile turned impish. “I do hope you’re all right with becoming Uncle Obi-Wan.”

The absolutely confounded expression on the man’s face doubled Anakin over with laughter. By the time he could stand straight again, Obi-Wan had composed himself somewhat. He stood with his arms crossed, mock glaring at Padmé, and absolutely ignoring Rex’s sniggering as the clone moved in closer, shoulder to shoulder with him.

Anakin shared a sympathetic glance with Cody, who was politely shaking his head and smirking as he checked his blaster over.

_Mistakes of our parents, hey?_ Anakin stood straight, rolling his shoulders back. Mom had had to make so many tough decisions, all alone and caught up in events so much bigger than her.

He draped an arm around Padmé’s shoulders, and as his wife snuggled close to his side, Anakin curved his wing around her so that the tips brushed up against Obi-Wan’s leg. His master smirked at him, mimicking the position with Rex, who went still and _blushed_ like Anakin had never seen. Cody couldn’t seem to decide if teasing his brother was called for, or tossing his hands up in utter disgust at the couples.

He _wasn’t_ alone. Perhaps they _could_ do this together; survive the war and political firestorms and all the strange crap that the Force seemed to think they needed to endure. He grinned.

Anakin Skywalker tilted his head back, closing his eyes and letting Naboo’s sun warm his face, the light sinking down into his new wings. His family joked and squabbled around him as the clone forces continued cleanup, making sure all the droids were indeed destroyed.

One more battle, Obi-Wan had said. They could do this.

**Author's Note:**

> Many, MANY thanks to Flamethrower for encouragement and sanity checks, and to Lynati for background music and sidewise advice.


End file.
